


Follies of Roughhousing

by Ylith



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/Ylith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom is Arthur’s older brother, and Eames is Dom’s best friend.  Dom and Eames have always loved to mess with Arthur, but as they get older Arthur develops a raging crush on Eames.  Arthur is mortified the first time he gets hard while Eames is tackling him, but then one day Eames wrestles him to the ground and Arthur can feel that he isn't the only one affected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place from the time they are kids to when they are all in college, but no sexual activity happens until both Arthur and Eames are over 18.

Ever since they’d been little, Arthur had been the bane of his older brother Dom’s existence. Arthur had been programmed by their mother to think that Dom always wanted him around, so he continuously sought out his brother’s company. He always was right at Dom’s heels, following him even when Dom was snapping for him to go home and leave him be, so finally Dom found other ways to entertain himself even with Arthur trailing him like a bad smell. 

For almost just as long a time as all that, Dom’s best friend had been Eames from down the block. They were partners in crime, together from dawn til dusk, and as Eames’ father (as Dom’s mother put it) “drank too much juice”, Eames was always welcome over for meals and sleepovers without much question. 

When they were young, Arthur himself four years old and Dom almost seven, Dom’s mother had leaned out the front door before he and Eames could take off shouting “Dominic Cobb you play with your little brother!”, which resulted in the usual eye-rolling and amused giggles from Dom and Eames respectively. 

Arthur was small for his age, baby fat still rounding his cheeks and his wide eyes often hidden by his thick dark hair, and he was always excited to play with the older boys in any way they would include him. This particular time, the older boys informed him they were going to play Cops and Robbers, and in an attempt to ease Dom’s frustration at being forced to play with his baby brother yet again, Eames suggested Arthur could play the banker. 

Dom’s eyes lit up at the idea, nodding to Arthur. “Yeah Artie, I’m the cop, Eames is the robber, and you’re the banker.” Little Arthur was only too happy to play along, even when the older boys tied him to the birch tree in the front yard with a jump rope, Dom promising to free him “after I catch the bad guy” before he and Eames tore off chasing each other down the street. Fully trusting his older brother, Arthur stood tied to the tree until his mother found him some time later and released him. Needless to say, both Dom and Eames got quite the scolding before dinner that night. 

As Arthur got older, Dom and Eames found him sturdy enough to roughhouse with. Dom had started it, getting Arthur into a headlock while he and Eames watched wrestling. Arthur had cried the first time as Dom was too rough and Arthur hadn’t understood what was going on. Eames was the one who calmed him down, patting his back and telling him it was just big boy play, that it was all in fun. He pretended to let Arthur pin him, his exaggerated faces and affected struggles had Arthur giggling until his face hurt. Dom was gentler after that, at least until Arthur got a little older. Then they really let him have it. 

When Arthur was eight, Dom and Eames developed a taste for waiting behind the bushes next door for Arthur to get off the schoolbus. They’d watch him walk down the street through the leaves and then chase him all the way home. If they caught him, they wrestled him to the ground, dog piling him or twisting his arms with ‘snake bites’ until he begged for mercy. By the time Arthur was 12, the older boys had figured out that the best time to torture him was inside the house before their mom got home from work, away from the prying eyes of concerned neighbors. 

It was around this time that Arthur started to feel tingly every time Eames tackled him, or when the older boy looked at him and smiled. Eames had the most crooked teeth Arthur had ever seen, but he couldn’t imagine them being fixed, hated the thought of Eames smiling without them. He started to look forward to Eames being there when he got home, to the older boy pushing him playfully or nudging him with his foot when they played video games. Dom was getting less interested in playing with Arthur, and it was Eames who usually insisted it was ok for Arthur to hang out. 

When Arthur was fourteen, his best friend Ariadne kissed him while they were watching movies. He was caught off guard, almost immediately pushing her away. He immediately felt guilty though at the sad look that crossed her face, so he closed his eyes and leaned forward, kissing her back. He’d never really thought about kissing anyone before, and when he tried to imagine someone more appealing than Ariadne, Eames immediately flashed in his mind. Arthur flushed at the realization, pictured Eames’ full lush mouth, his gorgeous blue-green eyes. 

“Who are you thinking about?” Ariadne asked, pulling away from him. He didn’t realize how tight his eyes were clenched; he must have looked completely ridiculous. 

“No one,” he lied, his ears burning hot with embarrassment. 

Ariadne wasn’t fooled, but she never tried to kiss him again. 

When Arthur was fifteen, he got hard for the first time when Eames tackled him. The older boy threw him to the floor, his chest warm and solid against Arthur’s back and his thick thighs were braced on either side of his hips as he held him down. Arthur panicked, unable to breathe as he felt himself stiffen in his jeans, growing harder as Eames chuckled softly in his ear. “Beg,” Eames said, his breath hot and wet against Arthur’s skin. “Beg me and I’ll let you go.” 

Arthur was panting from the strain of trying to free himself, barely able to hear Dom taunting him or Eames laughing with his older brother. “Please, please please” he groaned, the words spilling out. “I surrender, please!” 

When Eames let him go, Arthur tore from the room, slamming his bedroom door as Dom called “Such a baby!” after him. He stood with his back against his door, chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down. He palmed himself with shaking fingers, feeling the strain of his erection under his jeans. His cheeks burned as he jerked off, his eyes shut but Eames’ husky voice filling his head. “Beg me,” he said, boxing Arthur in. “Beg me.” 

Arthur came with a whimper, the hand he pulled from his open jeans splattered with sticky seed. He hid in his room the rest of the night, only venturing downstairs when it was time for dinner and his mother’s presence meant the older boys wouldn’t mess with him. 

After that night, Arthur began dreading when Eames would roughhouse with him, scared he’d get hard again and that Eames or Dom would notice, neither of which Arthur could bear. He gradually withdrew from the older boys, preferring to hide in his room. He’d hoped that the space would allow him to get over his crush, but it only made things worse. He became ever increasingly aware of Eames’ presence in the house. Sometimes Eames would bark out a laugh, or shout something to Dom, and Arthur’s entire body would go rigid, every nerve prickling. 

Things got easier and worse when Dom got a girlfriend. Mallorie, or Mal as she preferred, was both beautiful and terrifying. All it took was one cold leveled glare when Arthur tried to watch TV with them for him to learn that his presence was unwelcome when she and Dom were spending time together alone. Being the hot blooded all American boy that he was, Dom’s life at home became almost completely centered around Mal during his senior year, which meant that Eames was around less and less until even Arthur’s mother commented that she hadn’t seen her unofficial third son in weeks. Arthur missed him with a physical ache at home, but felt relieved that he was finally able to move about freely and not tiptoe around his crush. 

There was always school, but being a senior meant Eames never really commingled with underclassmen like Arthur, and was therefore fairly easy to avoid. The few times he saw the older boy in the halls, or heard his voice from across the courtyard, Arthur felt his heart in his throat. It didn’t help any that as he got older, Eames had only gotten more attractive, filled out from his previously slim frame to gain some thickness and muscle from what Arthur determined was a mixture of football and pure genetic maliciousness. Arthur himself was as boyish as ever looks-wise, still rail thin despite his best efforts. He finally shot up a few inches when he was sixteen, but he still wasn’t tall by any stretch of the imagination. 

At sixteen he also admitted to Ariadne that he was gay, or rather, Ariadne finally dragged it out of him. She was determined to find out Arthur’s illusive crush, but as he was still too scared to actually verbalize his feelings for Eames, he spat out the first name he could think of. 

“Robert?” she squealed, her eyes wide with self satisfaction. “Arthur he’s a junior, do you know how cool it would be if you got with him?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t even like me,” he said, and for some ridiculous reason he’d thought that would actually put an end to it. He’d almost forgotten about it entirely until a rare night when Ariadne, Eames, and Mal were over for a movie night. Eames almost completely ignored Arthur, sticking close to Dom and Mal while Ariadne and Arthur huddled together in the stuffed armchair. They were halfway through Hellraiser when Ariadne took out her phone and typed a quick message, elbowing Arthur just as his own phone buzzed. He pulled out his phone with a confused furrow, looking back to Ariadne with question but only getting a pointed glare in response. Arthur checked his phone, the light harsh in the darkened room as her message popped up. 

‘Robert Fischer wants 2 finger U’

His head snapped towards her, eyes huge. “What the fuck” he mouthed, not wanting to draw attention. Much to his distaste, she grinned impishly and began typing again, fingers flying over her keys before she hit send and Arthur’s phone buzzed again in his hand. 

‘I had Amy tell him u like him, and he told her ur hot. He wants ur cherry’

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re so full of shit,” he whispered. 

She shook her head emphatically, eyes wide. “He told me,” she whispered. “He knows we’re friends and asked if you were really down.”

“Well I’m not” Arthur hissed at her, pulling the blanket tighter around when when he realized Eames was staring. 

Ariadne groaned, her head falling back against the chair dramatically before she went back to typing. He wanted to ignore the message, but she pinched his thigh under the blanket until he yelped and gave in. 

‘U can’t b a virgin 4ever’

This time Arthur elbowed her, keeping his voice as quiet as possible while still maintaining a level of venom as he whispered “oh yeah, cause you’ve banged so many guys.”

Quick as a wink, Arthur’s phone was plucked from his hand, too fast for him to snatch it back. He looked up in abject horror to see Eames scrolling through his messages. Arthur bolted from the chair, his legs tangling in the blanket in his hurry so that he fell against Eames, knocking them both to the floor. Eames was laughing then, wrestling Arthur down onto the floor and twisting one arm behind his back. Arthur stilled as Eames’ weight settled on his thighs, horrified both that Eames had his phone and that he felt the familiar stirrings of heat fluttered in his groin. 

Arthur groaned into the carpet, hoping it came off as pain from his arm and not that he was getting a fucking boner. Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, Christ don’t get fucking hard…..

Eames scoffed above him, and Arthur could hear Dom asking him what was so funny. “Looks like Robert Fischer wants to diddle Artie here, thinks he’s gonna-” Eames cleared his throat as he looked for the exact message. “Finger him and pop his cherry.”

Arthur grimaced into the carpet, the humiliation at least enough to deflate his previously developing hard-on. Ariadne had the decency to hide her face in her hands, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Arthur when she got the courage to look at him. He knew he was red faced when Eames let him up with a fond ruffle of his hair and quick rub of his shoulders, and he only glowered further when Eames giggled with delight when Arthur finally reclaimed his phone and quickly slithered back to the armchair with Ariadne. 

“I hate you,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket up over his head and curling against her shoulder. He peeked out when he heard Dom snort, his brother’s eyes still fixed on the television. 

“Please,” Dom said. “Like I’d let him anywhere near my baby brother. He even looks at you, Artie and I’ll break his fucking legs.”

“Count me in,” Eames added, pursing those ridiculously full lips and crossing his thick arms over his chest in a way that made his muscles bulge and Arthur’s mouth water. It wasn’t even fair, Eames was so buff and so hot it almost hurt not to look, but Arthur knew if he didn’t start thinking of something gross like his parents having sex and stop thinking about Eames and his stupid arms he’d be rock hard in two minutes flat. He tucked up his knees and curled into a ball against Ariadne, who was only too happy to cradle him now that she was no longer holding the highest rank on his shitlist.. 

“I don’t even like Robert!” Arthur shot out over the blanket, scowling when Eames laughed heartily. 

After that, Robert Fischer wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Arthur could only guess that Dom had said something to him, and in a moment of pure little brother righteous indignation, he decided to tell Dom off over it. Arthur found him in his room, puttering around in his laptop. 

“What did you say to Robert?” he asked, tone and face the epitome of ‘cross.’ Their mother always joked that Arthur had inherited her slim build and resting bitchface, though to his supreme irritation it never actually worked on his older brother.

Dom didn’t even glance up. “You mean your boyfriend?”

Arthur groaned. “No, asshole, I told you...I don’t even like him. He’s being all weird though, so could you just tell him you were kidding or something?”

Dom was still scrolling through shit on his laptop, and Arthur thought he had simply ignored him until Dom finally said, “Go change your tampon, Artie, I didn’t say anything to him.”

Arthur frowned. “Well then why is he being all-”

Dom rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Oh my god Arthur, how should I know? Eames is on the football team with him, maybe he said something. I wasn’t kidding though; if he touches you he’s fucking dead...now fuck off I’m busy.”

Arthur flicked Dom off before retreating back to his room, dramatically belly-flopping onto his bed. He pulled his phone down from the nightstand, staring at his contact list over and over for at least five minutes before finally selecting Eames’ name, and tapping out a quick message. He’d only ever put Eames’ number there when he and Dom were attached at the hip in case he ever needed to find Dom, and couldn’t deny the slight surge of excitement he got at actually texting his crush, even if it was just to yell at him.

‘Did u threaten Robert??’

Eventually Eames did reply, but only with an angel emoji. 

Arthur definitely didn’t have fantasies that night about Eames cornering Robert in the locker room, all sweaty and muscley as he got in Robert’s face and told him to not even look at Arthur again. 

Definitely not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of got longer than anticipated, so now it's three chapters not two.

Part 2

 

It got worse when Dom and Eames graduated. 

Arthur’s mother had been a complete mess, clutching both boys tight and littering their bemused faces with wet kisses. “My babies!” she’d cried out, petting Eames’ hair back when he turned a sheepish shade of tomato. Dom was patting her shoulder, telling her she’d make it, and Arthur just hung back and took pictures with his phone. 

Then his mother had demanded a few pictures of him with the boys, so both Dom and Eames dragged Arthur between them and draped their arms over his shoulders. Arthur felt his heart race as Eames’ heavy arm wrapped tight about his neck, pulling him close. He knew he was flushing, and forced a wide dimpled smile he knew his mother would demand before considering the deed accomplished. Eames smelled so fucking good, and Arthur wanted to just bury his nose in the older boy’s graduation robe and just sniff like a certified creeper. 

Arthur had felt the familiar stirrings in his groin, but thankfully before anything could come of it the pictures were done and Dom was shoving him away playfully with a hand to the face. They’d gone out to dinner afterwards, Eames’ father along as well as he’d made a rare (and somewhat sober) appearance. Arthur was tasked with keeping Eames Sr. occupied, a job which he took seriously as he wanted Dom and Eames to have a fun night, wanted that crooked charming grin to stay on Eames’ face as much as possible since he wouldn’t be seeing it at school anymore. 

As Eames Sr. looked down at his nearly empty glass of beer, eyes red-rimmed from a likely combination of inebriation and sadness, he told Arthur he was trying to prepare himself for Eames not living in the house anymore. He said that Eames had always been scarce, that at times it seemed he already had moved out from the amount of time he spent at Dom’s, but that this felt more permanent. That he knew once Eames moved out he wouldn’t be back. 

Arthur had never really liked Eames’ Sr for a whole variety of reasons, and knew the man had made his own bed as far as his relationship with his son was concerned, but he still pitied the man in this moment. He himself was only just beginning to process that he wouldn’t be seeing Eames on any regular basis. Wouldn’t hear his laugh or see his infectious smile. Wouldn’t smell his spicy shampoo or feel his muscular body when Eames tackled or hugged him. Both Eames and Dom were going to the local state college, but they were living on campus, working on campus; Dom already had Mal but it was only a matter of time before Eames himself found someone.

Arthur took a deep breath, wanting to swipe a drink from his mother’s wine glass as his chest tightened increasingly to the point of pain. 

The summer passed quickly, almost consumed with college prep. Dom hadn’t been interested in picking out things like his bedding or shower caddy, only caring about picking out a new computer and tablet with his graduation money. So in the end, Arthur and his mother had gone together to get everything he needed, laughing together for the first time in months as they contemplated whether or not they should get Dom everything in pink for making them do the work. His mother put on a brave face, insisting it was all part of what a parent wants for their child, but from the moment they started putting boxes in the car to the moment Dom had finished setting up his dorm room she had random little breakdowns. Their father tried to console her, so did Arthur, but when Dom told her she was being ridiculous and that he’d be home that weekend, she dragged him against her chest and clutched him tight. 

Right before Dom reached the end of his inadequate patience, there was a knock at the door. It was Eames. Arthur positively tingled as the older boy slunk in, enveloping their mother in a big bear hug and rocking her back and forth with a chuckle. He wore a plaid button down with close fitting jeans and just looked so amazing that Arthur just wanted to climb him like a tree and wrap himself around him. He almost squeaked when Eames finally released his mother and turned on him, a fond “Artie…” his only warning before he was swept up in Eames’ strong arms, lifted clear off the ground and squeezed against that heavenly muscled body. 

Just this once, Arthur forgot to be scared and let himself just enjoy the moment, his eyes drifting shut as he inhaled Eames’ distinct warm scent. All too soon he was back on his own two feet, Eames ruffling his hair and asking if he would miss him. Arthur managed a weak nod, scared to say anything unless “god Eames I love you” tumbled out of his mouth. 

So after years of dreading Eames’ presence, Arthur found that Eames not being there actually was infinitely worse. He missed him like a limb, his presence still lingering around the halls both at school and at home. Ariadne said he’d been moping like he’d been dumped for weeks, which she said was stupid as she ‘knew’ he’d never been with anyone. It was stupid, but Arthur supposed this was what being dumped had to feel like. 

It wasn’t until Ariadne got a real honest to god boyfriend that Arthur realized just how alone he was. She was his social lifeline, and while they still hung out at school he rarely saw her outside of it. Arthur had never been good at making friends, which Ariadne had said probably due to his unfortunate combination of being shy and having a resting bitch face. He wasn’t really out at school, though while he’d never expressly told his mother he was gay she’d dropped enough hints that told him she knew. Arthur actually began spending more time with his mother, their bond closer than it had been in years. He supposed a boy his age shouldn’t want to go to movies with his mother and bake with her on his downtime, but it was comforting to him. 

The rest of Arthur’s high school career passed more of the same. He didn’t have a ton of friends, but he had near perfect grades and could make a kick ass Tres Leches cake. Ariadne and her boyfriend broke up senior year, and she became a regular fixture in Arthur’s house again, especially around mealtimes. It felt good to have her back in his life. 

Dom came home occasionally, but it wasn’t as often as their mother liked. He was busy with school, busy with work, busy with Mal. Eames had been by a couple times when he’d been in the area, the last time Arthur had missed him by all of five minutes and actually went up to his room and cried when his mother told him. He felt like a stupid little boy, but couldn’t stop the tears. He still missed Eames, still ached for him even a year later. He still hadn’t had any real relationships, not for a lack of offers but each time he considered saying yes he felt nauseous. He knew at some point he’d have to actually move on, and kept giving himself new distant deadlines. It had started with ‘I’ll find a boyfriend before I’m a Senior’, only to become “I’ll find a boyfriend before I graduate.” 

When it was time to look for colleges, despite his perfect grades and ability to go anywhere, Arthur chose the local state uni like Dom. It was a great school, he’d stay close to his family and support system, Ariadne was going too, but deep down Arthur knew it was because Eames was there. 

If anything, his mother was even more weepy and inconsolable at his graduation. His father patted his shoulder and called him a good sport, even told her she was being dramatic when she insisted riding in the back seat with Arthur on the way to his celebration dinner so she could wrap him up in her arms. Arthur told himself he let her out of pity, but while he’d never admit it aloud, he found it comforting. He let her tuck his head against her chest and hold him. 

He tried not to be too upset when Dom showed up and told him Eames couldn’t get off of work. Arthur hadn’t seen Eames in almost a year and had been practically vibrating at the anticipation of seeing him. Mal had insisted Eames had wanted to be there and sent his congratulations with them, but it didn’t quite fill the hole in Arthur’s heart. 

That summer, Arthur combated his “pre-college” jitters with almost daily trips to the community pool. He just enjoyed the calm and solitude he was able to find while doing laps, working his tensions and apprehensions away and always leaving feeling loose and relaxed. The other previously unconsidered result was adding some sleekness to his previously stringy frame. He’d always be slim, but he actually had some abs, had some subtle curves of muscle, had an honest to god ass. He was finally developing into his own, which his mother pointed out by pinching his rump and telling him to watch out when he got to campus. “The boys will be tripping over themselves” she said, which made his father grunt and hide in his newspaper and Arthur choke on his orange juice. 

Oddly enough, Arthur finally started to stop worrying when it came time to get everything he’d need for his dorm. Ariadne said it was because he’d already done the shopping and planning for Dom, and his mother told him it was because he was a planner and it probably made him feel better to get all his ducks in a row. His father told him to stop worrying and just go with it, so he did. The odd calm lasted all the way through the rest of the summer, all through his move in, and meeting his roommate Yusuf. It wasn’t until Ariadne called him that night and asked “oh my god, are you freaking out?” that he felt the little swell of panic again. 

“Not til now, dick,” he hissed into the phone, glad that Yusuf was busy on his computer and didn’t seem to be paying him any mind. He’d had his own room almost his entire life, and he supposed that of anything this would be his biggest adjustment he’d need to make. Yusuf seemed nice, and seemed as adamant about his studies as Arthur, if not more so. 

“Is your roommate not?” she asked. 

It felt like her voice was booming through his phone, so Arthur quickly flicked a glance towards Yusuf. “He seems nice,” he said quietly. 

She laughed. “Probably for the best, sleeping with your roommate can get weird.”

“Speaking from experience?” Arthur asked, flopping back on his bed. “Burning through that freshman bucket list, Ari? You’ve only been there three days.”

“I’m saving lesbian conquests for after winter break,” she said, then paused before continuing. “Has Mal invited you to their party this weekend?”

“No,” Arthur said. He hadn’t heard from Dom in weeks, his brother may as well have been on another planet since he and Mal started renting a house together with a friend. 

“Well they’re having a ‘kick off the school year’ bash thing. It’s mostly for seniors, but she promised no one would cockblock us from drinking.”

Arthur had never been much of a drinker, but Ariadne’s promise of hanging out and objectifying hot guys won him over, and he agreed to go. 

The rest of orientation went well. Arthur felt like a real college kid when he bought his books, when he went to his first class, when he got Starbucks and worked on his first homework assignment in the student union. By the end of his first week, he was riding an unexpected high from the liberation and responsibility that he was excited to live up to. He was even looking forward to the stupid party, ready to take Ariadne up on her offer of lusting over hot guys, maybe even making out on some strangers bed. For the first time he felt ready to let go of the hope of Eames and really try for something tangible, for someone new. 

The night of the party he went through half his closet to find the right outfit, the idea of dressing for attention still relatively foreign to him after so many years of hiding from his one great crush. He ended up in tight dark jeans that hugged his ass and a slim fit grey shirt. Yusuf came as he was toweling his hair, gawking at him as he pulled out his earbuds. 

“Going out?” he asked. 

Arthur nodded. “Do I look ok?”

Yusuf tilted his head, staring pointedly at Arthur’s ass. “Are you looking to get pregnant?”

Arthur shrugged. 

“Well you look like twinky jailbait...so have prince charming wear a condom.”

Arthur threw his towel at him. 

He and Ariadne met by the student union to walk together, Dom and Mal’s place right on the edge of campus in the row of questionable but cheap student rentals. There was already a crowd milling about out front, and Ariadne gripped his arm tight with a little squeal of “our first college party!” He wanted to push her off but laughed instead, letting her hold onto him like a lifeline. She abruptly released him though when he leaned over and quietly warned “no one will try to fuck us if they think we’re together.”

Once inside they quickly found Mal and therefore Dom, the two of them as attached at the hip as ever. Dom pretended to be interested in how Arthur liked his classes and Arthur pretended to care that Dom had been hired by Mal’s father as a research assistant. Dom indicated he’d had enough brotherly interaction by telling Ariadne to keep Arthur out of trouble before saluted them and migrated to another group of people. 

Ariadne and Ariadne were helping themselves to drinks from littered around the kitchen when a surprised cry of “Artie!” made Arthur snap to horrified attention. He didn’t even have to turn to know who it was, but still couldn’t believe his eyes when he was grabbed by the shoulder and spun about.

Standing before him, absurdly thick lips split with his charmingly crooked smile, body thicker with muscle than ever and still unfairly gorgeous in every possible way, was Eames.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur swallowed, tongue so dry he almost choked on it. He hadn’t even considered the possibility Eames would be there, yet there he was, green t-shirt straining over his hard muscles and hair closely cropped and different but of so achingly familiar. “Hi,” he finally managed, holding his breath as Eames leaned in and wrapped one arm around him in a typical boy side-hug and trying his damndest not to moan or inhale or just grab Eames by his stupid beautiful face and make out with him. 

“Look at you!” Eames exclaimed, eyes shifting over Arthur in a full once over that was not helping matters in the least. “I barely recognized you, Arthur, what the hell happened?”

“Puberty?” Arthur suggested weakly, not knowing what else to say. “I swam a lot this summer.” He took the opportunity as an excuse to squeeze one of Eames’ biceps, his dick twitching at the warm hard skin there. “You’re one to talk...they put steroids in the dorm food?”

Eames laughed, eyes crinkling with levity as Arthur all but groped him. “Took a cardio class last year for some easy credits, got a bit carried away I suppose.”

Arthur was snapped back to reality when Ariadne slapped his hand away. “Stop molesting Eames,” she chided. “He’s like your brother, weirdo.” 

His face instantly heated at being called out, jerking his hand back as though burnt. Hoping to diffuse the situation he quickly changed the subject. “I’m over at Boorman commons, are you still over in Pioneer?”

Eames shook his head, glancing awkwardly between Arthur and Ariadne. “Naw, I was sharing a flat with a mate but that fell through, so I’m actually living here now.” 

Arthur’s eyes went wide. “Here? With Dom?” he asked. “I thought they were just living with that exchange student....Hiro?”

Eames nodded, rubbing his fingers back through his hair. “They were, yeah....but when I got into a spot with my old roommate, they offered for me to move in. Works out for everyone though, cheaper rent and bills.” He flashed Arthur that charming smile, weakening Arthur’s knees. “Just like old times, living with Dom,” he said. “If we had another room I’d tell you to move in.”

Ariadne snorted. “Oh yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I bet Dom would just ‘love’ that.”

Eames looked pained then, the look fleeting but unmistakable. “You going to be here long?” he asked, focused again on Arthur. “I promised my mate I’d pick him up from work, but I’ll be back in a tick.”

Arthur nodded, not wanting Eames to go but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had so many things he wanted to ask Eames, and not ready to let him go after not seeing him for so long. But with a quick promise to be back soon, Eames was gone.

Arthur watched him leave before finally returning his attention to Ariadne, only to find her gaping at him. 

“What the fuck was that?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Arthur gave her a scowly frown, but she shook her head, unimpressed. 

“Ok don’t even try to play that with me,” she said. “If I didn’t know he was like your brother, I’d think you were in love with him.” 

Arthur didn’t at all like the way she was staring at him, as though she’d be able to see right into his head. “Whatever,” he finally huffed, grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a drink.”

An hour later, Eames still wasn’t back. Arthur was slumped on a lumpy couch, watching Ariadne make out with some hipster in a grandpa sweater across the room. She’d promised not to leave him alone, but apparently cute boys in her Sociology class were more pertinent than oaths to her best friend. As riveting as watching her suck face was, Arthur decided to get up and wander. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen and went outside, the cool autumn air refreshing after the stifling overcrowded house. There were a few people milling about on the lawn, so Arthur settled onto the stone porch, back leaning against a pillar. He watched a few guys throw a football, a girl do a cartwheel and have her too tight pants fall down and expose her ass, watched a group of students walk by still wearing their backpacks and holding coffees likely coming from night classes. 

He sat there until his beer was empty, and then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down to see a message from Ariadne. 

‘Going 2 get laid, u ok 2 get home?’

Arthur groaned, head falling back against the pillar. ‘Lucky’ he typed, followed by ‘be safe skank, call when ur home safe’. She replied with a winky face, and he pocketed his phone again. Arthur glanced back towards the house, music gently thumping through the walls. He felt awkward going back in alone, but refused to be pathetic and wait all night for Eames, no matter how much he wanted to. He swung his legs down over the side of the wall, and just when he was about to hop down, the door behind him opened and a pair of burly arms wrapped around his chest from behind. As he was dragged backwards, a familiar voice hot in his ear “think fast, Artie!”

Arthur yelped, struggling as Eames got his about his waist and hoisted him over his shoulder. “Put me down!” he yelled, face jostled against Eames’ lower back as he was carried down the stairs and onto the lawn. Eames swatted him on the ass twice, chuckling as Arthur realized what was going to happen and renewed his struggles. 

“Eames-” Arthur tried to say, but had the wind knocked out of him when Eames playfully tossed him to the ground. 

“Say uncle for mercy,” Eames said with a laugh, pulling Arthur back by the waist when the younger boy tried to crawl forward. 

“This is so stupid,” Arthur huffed, trying to downplay his panic. The last thing he needed was to get a hard on while at a party at his brother’s place across campus from his dorm. “Get off me, you idiot.”

Eames pulled Arthur’s arms behind him, forcing him to pitch forward and land face first in the grass, his ass in the air as Eames pressed bodily against him. He tried to clench his knees together but Eames’ thighs had already worked between them, ensuring Arthur couldn’t buck him off. “Say Uncle…” he taunted, lips brushing against Arthur’s ear as he laced his arms through Arthur’s to link behind his neck and keep him immobile. 

Arthur wiggled back, gasping as he tried to scoot back and buck the much larger boy off. All of a sudden, Eames went still as a stone, and with another shift back Arthur realized why.

Eames was hard.

Arthur didn’t even bother second guessing it, could feel Eames’ cock pressing into the cleft of his ass even through both layers of their jeans, could practically feel Eames’ heart thumping against his back. “Oh god…” escaped his lips as little more than a whimper, and unconsciously he rubbed back against Eames one last time. “Eames…”

Then Eames was scrambling off of him, pink in his cheeks and a mortification in his eyes which Arthur himself recognized only all too well. He began mumbling a whole string of apologies and chastisements of “you’re right, that was stupid.” When Arthur turned over and sat up, he saw Eames adjusting himself and shove his hands deep into his pockets. It was a classic “covert boner” move, and Arthur was still too shocked to say anything as Eames mumbled one last apology and beelined for the house. 

“Eames!” Arthur called after him, almost tripping over his own feet in his urgency to get up. Eames was already inside though house, and Arthur just stood there, struck still by the surrealness of what had just happened. 

Eames, gorgeous buff and completely unattainable Eames just got hard while wrestling with him. This just couldn’t be real, Eames had singlehandedly launched Arthur into puberty, had been his first and only crush, things this good just didn’t happen to Arthur. He didn’t even realize he’d been moving when his fingers curled around the knob of the front door and he was practically bursting into the house. 

The party was still going, people dancing and talking and thankfully paying him no mind as he scanned the room for the older boy. He didn’t see him, but kept looking, checking the bathroom and the kitchen before bounding up the stairs. Thankfully, the rooms all had white boards on them, and the board on the second door was scrawled with a note to Eames. Arthur considered knocking, but decided to take advantage of this momentary burst of bravery and instead just opened the door, shutting it as soon as he was inside. 

Eames was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, but jerked up when the door opened. His eyes widened as he took in Arthur, face twisted with guilt. “Arthur....I’m so sorry darling, are you angry?” 

Arthur stood there against the door, wanting to reassure Eames he couldn’t be angry, that he’d had a crush on Eames since he was twelve. But then he looked down and saw that Eames’ jeans were still tenting, saw the longing still lingering in his eyes behind the guilt, and Arthur just moved. 

Eames flopped back against his bed when Arthur pushed him down and climbed up onto his lap, staring up at him with wide unbelieving eyes and a lax mouth. Both of them groaned when Arthur slid their clothed erections together, Eames’ eyes fluttering shut when Arthur rocked his hips back and rubbed his ass against Eames’ dick. He was lost in his own little world on sensation, eyes shut and hands braced on Eames’ chest as he rubbed against him. “Wanted you for so long-” he moaned, gasping as Eames thrust up against him. “Only you.”

“Christ, Arthur.” Eames shuddered, finally moving to grip Arthur’s hips and grind him down harder. He pushed himself up onto an elbow and gripped Arthur by the back of the neck, dragging him down for a kiss. Arthur practically fell on him, hips still rocking as he opened his mouth to accept Eames. He let out a soft little cry as Eames’ tongue flickered into his mouth, brushing against his own, the older boy’s thick lips brushing warm and smooth against his own.

“Dom will kill me,” Eames whispered into Arthur’s mouth, unwilling to tear away from the kiss, his fingers clenching in Arthur’s hair and pulling him closer still. He sat up move, Arthur’s thighs straining to accommodate his bulk, but it was all worth it when Eames’ broad hand was stroking over the curve of his ass. Arthur arched into his touch, arms wrapping about Eames’ stocky shoulders as Eames’ mouth dragged down his throat, wrenching little cries from Arthur as his teeth sank into his soft flesh. 

“He will seriously kill me,” Eames said between nips, gripping Arthur’s ass hard before pushing him back onto the bed. 

Arthur shook his head, blood pounding in his veins as Eames pushed his t-shirt up to his ribs, his tongue stroking hot and wet up the length of Arthur’s flat belly. “I don’t care,” Arthur groaned, writhing beneath the other boy’s hands and mouth, fingers threading through Eames’ short hair. Then Eames was on top of him, his weight pressing Arthur down into the bed, hands everywhere. 

Soon Arthur’s jeans were on the floor, Eames’ shirt dangling from the side of the bed and both of them had managed to toe their shoes off. Eames’ jeans were undone and slung low about his hips, his erection trapped curled in his boxers, tenting them obscenely. He was thrusting against Arthur as they made out, pulling Arthur’s knees over his elbows so he could open him up more. Arthur could barely breathe through it, lungs feeling ready to burst and cock harder than he could ever remember it being before. 

Eames pulled away then, lips swollen and pouting as he looked down at him. “I want you, Arthur,” he said, thumb stroking across Arthur’s lips. “Not just fuck you...though I really want to do that, darling.” He ducked his head to press a quick kiss to the side of Arthur’s mouth. “I want to be with you, but Dom can’t know.”

Arthur shook his head, trying to pull Eames back down to him. “He really wont care, I promise. He’s never really cared that much about what I do-”

“He will care,” Eames insisted, voice steady. “He’s my best friend, and you’re his baby brother. He wont understand...maybe in time, but not now.”

Arthur frowned at that, finding it hard to believe that Dom cared that much. Dom who barely spoke to him or noticed anything outside his own girlfriend or interests. Eames had always been closer to Dom though, and Arthur realized sadly that in all reality, Eames probably knew his brother better than he did. He nodded finally in genuine understanding. “Ok,” he conceded. “He doesn’t have to know right away. If this works out, we’ll find the right time.”

All the tension melted from Eames’ shoulders, those wonderful crooked teeth bared with as he smiled in relief. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle fondly against Arthur’s jaw. “I thought you’d hate me if you knew…” he said. 

Arthur was shocked by the vulnerability on his open face. He’d always thought of Eames as untouchable. “Why?” he finally managed. 

Eames shrugged. “I felt like a pervert thinking you were cute,” he admitted. “Figured you thought of me as a brother. Then you started avoiding me, and that thing with Robert happened and I just-” Eames hid his face against Arthur’s neck.

“You what?” Arthur asked, brushing his thigh over Eames’ hip to goad him on. 

“I got jealous.” Eames’ face was red when he dared to peek back up at Arthur. 

Arthur remembered jerking off to images of Eames slamming Robert against a wall and telling him to stay away, how he’d pictured those strong arms caging him and holding him down, pulling him close. Those arms were braced on either side of him now, there for him to touch and squeeze, to bite and kiss. He didn’t have to imagine it anymore.

Arthur reached a hand between them and pushed it beneath the waistband of Eames’ boxers, both of them groaning when his fingers brushed against the silky heat of Eames’ erection. He bit his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise, feeling Eames’ foreskin slide beneath his hand as he stroked him. He was emboldened by the way Eames’ mouth fell open in shock and pleasure, his eyes drifting shut. “Take your jeans off,” Arthur told him, voice low. “You’re gonna fuck me.”

Eames’ hips jerked in his hold, his whole body shuddering. “Have you ever...before?” he asked, his trepidation not enough to stop him from stripping out of his jeans as told.

Arthur shook his head, pushing his own underwear down his narrow hips. “Always wanted it to be you,” he confessed. 

Eames gaped down at Arthur’s naked body laid out before him. “Fuck, Arthur,” he exhaled, finally divesting himself of the remainder of his own clothing before kneeling again between Arthur’s legs. 

Arthur swallowed as he looked at Eames’ bare fat cock for the first time, his balls heavy and full between his legs. He tried to calm himself down when Eames reached into his bedside drawer and fumbled through it for lube and a condom. He tried not to think about the mechanics of what was going to happen, and instead focus on the fact it was Eames doing it. It was unfamiliar when Eames’ fingers played over his hole, uncomfortable when they pushed in, but Eames was patience and Arthur was determined, so soon enough he felt himself relaxing, moving with Eames, sighing and ready for more. He swallowed hard as he watched Eames roll the condom down his engorged and rosy prick, biting his lip as he watched the older boy jack it into place. 

Then Eames was on top of him, his bulk spreading his thighs and cock warm and slick where it brushed against him. Eames leaned down to kiss him, rubbing their noses together. “Is this ok?” he asked. “This how you want it?”

Arthur nodded, fingers reaching above him to curl into the bedding as Eames sat back and began to push into him. A choked little sob broke from Arthur’s throat, his brows knit in fear as pain knifed through him, almost like a piercing cramp. His knees jerked on reflex, Eames immediately stopping.

“It’s ok, Arthur, you just have to breathe,” he said softly, petting Arthur’s heaving chest. “Try and push out, it’ll make it easier.” 

Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath as Eames got more lube. His face scrunched as Eames pushed in again, whimpering as Eames got about halfway in and the pain increased until he was squirming away, shaking his head. “It hurts,” he said, hand pushing at Eames’ chest, eyes welling with unshed tears of both discomfort and frustration. He’d wanted this for so long, wanted Eames so badly and felt cheated. 

Eames kissed his cheek, shushing his frustrations. “No rush love, we can wait.”

Arthur shook his head, refusing to miss his chance. 

Eames huffed, hands soothing over Arthur’s sides. He suggested it might hurt less with Arthur on his stomach, and when Arthur agreed Eames turned him over, guiding him to lift his hips to position a pillow beneath him. The pillow was soft beneath him, cradling his softened cock and propping his hips up just enough to ease the way. Eames fingered him some more, using lots of lube and working Arthur’s prostate until he was humping into the pillow, moaning loud enough for Eames to hush him and remind him that his older brother’s room was next door. 

Arthur lay against the soft bedding, breathing heavy as Eames began to push into him again. He brought his hand to his face, knuckle of one finger caught between his teeth. It still hurt, but nowhere near as bad as before, a combination of Eames’ careful prep and the new position. Eames was killing his back, petting his hair, murmuring praise to him and Arthur’s whole body sang as his prostate was brushed over and over. He pumped his hips in time with Eames’ thrusts, rubbing his swollen cock against the pillow until it was almost too much. 

He gasped when Eames wrapped an arm about his waist to drag his hips up, a hand at Arthur’s nape keeping his face and chest against the bedding as he steadily pumped into him. Arthur was pushed back and forth across the bedding with the increasing force, the dull pain at his tailbone fading when Eames cupped his full tender balls and gently squeezed. Arthur cried out, back arched when Eames’ cock began to stroke just so inside him and he begged Eames to make him cum. The words spilled out over and over until Eames finally wrapped his fingers around his length and stroked his thumb over the head of Arthur’s prick and he came hard. 

As Arthur sagged boneless against the bed, Eames took hold of his hips and pushed into him with short hard thrusts. Arthur just took it, too over sensitized and completely worn out for it to still feel good but he clenched as much as he could and tilted his ass up. His toes curled as Eames jerked hard into him and then came, his broad chest hot and sweaty as it pressed against his back. He moaned contentedly as Eames carefully pulled out and wrapped his strong arms around him, nosing against his nape. 

“You’re incredible,” Eames sighed against him, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear. “Fucking incredible.”

They fell asleep together in Eames’ bed, waking together before the sun had even come up. Arthur was sore, but he didn’t mind it, almost loved it in fact. Eames was spooned behind him, arm curled lazily around his waist and fingers splayed over his belly. Arthur still couldn’t believe it was real, almost expected to turn around and see some other random guy he’d manifested Eames’ face onto. 

Eames worried about Dom catching them together, so Arthur suggested they go back to his place. They managed to sneak out before anyone else woke up, Eames’ arm about Arthur’s waist as they crossed the campus commons on the way back to Arthur’s dorm. They tried to get into the room quietly, laughing softly as they took off their shoes and pants and climbed into Arthur’s narrow bed. Eames drew the blankets over them, huddling in their makeshift cave and making out until they managed to drift back to sleep. 

Arthur woke again later feeling stifled under the heavy blankets. He pushed them off, brows scrunched with sleep as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

“So….Prince Charming, I take it?” 

Arthur’s head shot up to see Yusuf standing there, fully dressed with his backpack on, his phone in his hand as he pointed next to Arthur, where Eames lay sprawled on his back with his shirt undone, lips parted as he slept. 

Arthur flushed, feeling like the biggest skank for being caught out by his roommate who seemed oh so amused by the whole situation. “Ummm...yeah?”

Yusuf snorted, pulling up his headphones. “Tart,” he said, saluting Arthur as he left.

Eames woke at the sound of Yusuf bustling through the door, looking about bewildered as though he couldn’t remember where he was. “What’s going on?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“My roommate,” Arthur said. “You just missed him.”

“All ok?” Eames asked, the concern in his eyes utterly endearing. 

“It will be,” Arthur said, crawling up into Eames’ lap. “Soon as you fuck me again.”

Eames flashed a wicked grin, suddenly awake quite awake. “Come to papa, darling.”


End file.
